


Corduroy

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Series: LazyTown Ship Week 2018 [4]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Day 4 - Hot Coco/Drinks, F/M, Gifts, Holding Hands, Hot Chocolate, Snow, Stingy is trying so hard, Trixie is a tiiiiiiny bit oblivious to this kind of thing, corduroy trousers, lazytownshipweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: After staying out in the snow too long, Trixie and Stingy are freezing. Stingy says they can warm up at his house, which Trixie is fine with.Even when Stingy starts acting weird, she's still fine with it.





	Corduroy

**Author's Note:**

> This took so long to get to the actual prompt oh my g o d I got so off base

"It's too darn cold," Trixie hissed, rubbing her mittened hands up and down her arms furiously. She'd wrapped up warm enough; thick trousers, good jumper, puffer jacket, woolly socks and the hat, scarf, and mittens trio that her sister had gotten her for Christmas. She was even wearing _tights_ under her trousers for goodnessakes, just to try and get some extra warmth.

"Language," Stingy scolded, trying to uncover his shovel from the snow. He was starting to shiver.

Trixie rolled her eyes, teeth chattering "Oh sh- shut up," she said, "darn isnt swearing. It's fake swearing, you know, the stuff you say when you're not allowed to swear 'cause you're too young or whatever."

"It counts," stingy insisted.

Trixie scoffed. "No it doesn't. Robbie says it all the time. Heck-"

"Language," Stingy interrupted.

"-I bet even _Sportacus_ has said darn at some point."

Stingy abruptly stopped his digging and the two of them shared a look.

"Okay," Trixie conceded after a few seconds, "so maybe 'darn' is too m- much even for Sportacus, but still. I could've said a lot w- worse. I know a lot of w- words."

"I k- know you do," Stingy said with a glare. He turned back to the little hole in the snow and shoved his hand in, pulling out the shovel. "Got it," he said, putting it in his pull-along trailer, which had been waiting nearby. He dusted some snow off of it with his palm and picked up the handle. "Now come on," he told Trixie, "we're going to mine before my face freezes off-"

"Or before it freezes like that," Trixie muttered.

"-and I want some hot chocolate," Stingy carried on, oblivious. "It's positively awful weather and I want to get warm."

"A- alright," Trixie agreed, trying to hide her discomfort. It wasn't a big deal or anything, Stingy just didn’t really bring people over to his house. If he wanted to spend time with his friends, he usually went to theirs. "For the f- f- future," Trixie said, "when the snow starts to cover our stuff, we've b- been playing t- too long."

"A- agreed," Stingy shuddered, "now hurry up."

Gobsmacked, Trixie almost gasped as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. "I- I'm coming, alright, jeez!" She shouted, but Stingy still didn't let go, his gloved hand keeping a firm hold on hers. It wasn't bad, in fact, it was actually quite nice. Trixie just hadn't been expecting it. To be completely honest, she was still in shock.

Still, she kept up easily, and the two trudged through the snow as quickly as they could up to Stingy's. When they got there, Stingy unlocked the door and practically pushed Trixie inside. Trixie didn't even mind, it was so nice to be inside in the warm, and Stingy was close behind anyway, lugging the trailer into the hallway.

He shoved the door shut, making it slam enough for Trixie to jump, but when it was closed the both of them let out huge sighs of relief and just stood for a minute, letting the heat soak into them. Trixie stuck her hands out to the side and basked in it like a lizard. Thank goodness the Spoilero's had wood fireplaces in like, every room. Their house was _always_ warm.

After a minuet she heard Stingy start to move. She ignored him for another couple of seconds before looking to see what he was doing. Her penny-pinching little friend had found a towel from somewhere and had rolled his trailer onto it. Already, the warmth was making the snow on top of it melt.

"I'm not letting _my_ floors get wet," he snipped when he saw her looking. "My parents will kill me," he added quietly.

She wanted to ask where they were, but she knew she wouldn’t get much of an answer. Mr and Mrs Spoilero were very busy people indeed. That was fine by Trixie, having a big house like this all to themselves was pretty cool, even if it was weird to be in it.

Stingy began taking off his scarf and coat. "There's a rack in the laundry room - if we put our wet things on it they can dry by the fire."

Trixie shrugged and started to . "Alright." She didn’t really care how long it'd take to dry - the Spoilero's wouldn’t be back until very late and her Mom wasn't expecting her back soon anyway - but getting out of her wet clothes would be nice.

Luckily, her jumper had stayed pretty dry. Her trousers, however, were sopping from rolling around in the snow.

Stingy didn't have the same problem. He had a weird set of trouser-things that went over his regular trousers to keep them dry. They kind of looked like Trixies puffer jacket. Sure enough, when he took them off - almost falling over onto Trixie trying to do so - his normal trousers were pretty much bone dry.

Trixie couldn’t say the same for hers. She frowned. She'd just have to take them off. She could live in just tights for a while, right? Grimacing, Trixie shed her outer layers and started pulling off her trousers too, dumping everything on the towel under the dripping trailer until Stingy found his rack. She felt chilly with less clothes on, but she had been a lot colder out in the snow and bundled up.

Stingy frowned when he saw her and told her to go into the front room and wait by the fire. She did, assuming he was going to get the rack, picking up her bundle of wet clothes while he dashed off into another part of the house. It was for the best, really. The Spoilero's house was huge, and very maze-like sometimes. Trixie knew she'd just get lost if she tried to find it on her own, so she sat on the carpet by the fireplace in the lounge area and stuck her hands out to warm them.

When Stingy came back, dragging the wire rack behind him, there was already something on it. Trixie was very surprised when he lugged the rack over to the fire and handed the thing to her.

"What's this?" she asked, unfolding the fabric. They were a pair of kids trousers, a weird burgundy-brown corduroy by the looks of it. They were absolutely hideous.

She loved them.

"They're _mine,"_ Stingy said automatically, then caught himself. "But- but they're too small. Yours are wet so you can wear them instead."

Trixie was awed. Stingy had never voluntarily offered to let something borrow something of his in his life! She didn’t argue, afraid that if she pointed out what he was doing, he'd change his mind and retract the offer. Instead, she pulled the pants on over her tights. She'd never worn corduroy before, and had always thought it looked stiff or uncomfortable, bit these weren’t. They were very comfortable and very nice indeed, and they fit her perfectly - which was suspicious, because Trixie knew for a fact that they wore the same size pants. Trixie frequently bought pants from the boys section at the store - the only way to find something that wasn’t low-waisted or pink - and had borrowed clothes from pretty much every kid in the town at some point, for one reason or another.

Still, she didn’t bring it up. Maybe he just _thought_ these were a pair that were too small, everybody made mistakes. He could've gotten them mixed up with another pair or something.

While Trixie put on the trousers Stingy was putting his wet clothes onto the rack, so when she was done she stood to put hers on too. Neither set of mittens would stay balanced over the wires so they left them on the hearth in the end.

"There," Stingy said when they were finished. "They'll dry slow but…" he shrugged. "that just means we can drink more hot chocolate."

Trixie snorted. "I like that logic."

Stingy smirked at her. "Come on." He took her hand again - which, still nice, but still weird - and led her through the house to the kitchen, where Trixie proceeded to witness the most surreal thing since Stingy had lent her those corduroys five minutes ago: Stingy Spoilero making hot chocolate for someone besides himself.

Of course, he was making it for himself too, but he wasn’t _just_ making it for himself, and that was the surreal part. Trixie figured that he'd just get out the stuff and leave her to her own devices while he made his or something.

_Wow._

Trixie knew he'd been doing better curbing his more selfish behaviours lately, anyone could see that, but this was still very unexpected. No one else got such treatment, not that she'd seen. Maybe he was just afraid that she'd mess up if he let her do it herself. (It was very possible - Trixie wasn’t generally allowed around stuff like that, not without adult supervision. She'd set three fires in the past year alone.)

Within ten minutes, Stingy had a tray with two large mugs of coco on, each topped with cream. He'd also put the cream cannister on the tray to top it up if needed.

Carefully he made his way back to the lounge with their clothes, and though Trixie knew it was because of the tray, she still kinda missed Stingy holding her hand. Not too much, just a bit. It was probably more the novelty of it than anything else.

They sat down on the sofa and Stingy produced a fur throw from somewhere.

"Don’t worry," he said when she looked dubiously between the coco and the throw, "it's fake. It's actually very easy to wash, as I have personally found."

"Alright then," Trixie said, relieved. She wasn't exactly clumsy as such… just, accident-prone.

They sat down and Stingy took the remote off the arm of the couch and flicked on the TV while Trixie situated herself under the throw. It was beautifully warm, especially with the fire blazing as well.

Stingy settled on an old black and white movie channel, something Trixie didn’t actually mind. Some of them could be a bit boring - like the silent ones or the ones in languages she couldn’t understand, but some of the snuff-type ones were pretty good. Old comedies, however, were excellent - and that was exactly what was showing now.

Stingy handed her her mug of coco and burrowed under the throw with his own, Trixie sipping at hers while Stingy got comfy.

They settled back and watched the film, and Trixie could swear that Stingy's hand kept bumping into her.

When the film took a break and the adverts came on, Trixie looked into the fire and tried to eat the cream from the top of her hot chocolate without getting it all over her face. She loved fire, it was so pretty. She could watch this for hours.

"You can keep the trousers," Stingy said suddenly, and Trixie had to physically keep herself from inhaling her coco.  I can't wear them if they're too small so… you might as well have them."

Trixie bit her lip.

"Stingy, these aren’t too small for you."

Beside her, Stingy tensed up. "O- oh. Well, I hate corduroy, so you should have them anyway."

"No you don’t," she told him. Stingy was an 11 trapped in a 90 year old man's clothing. He loved corduroy. He wore it for all his fancy special occasions.

Stingy didn’t have anything to say to that. He was frowning into the fire.

"But," Trixie continued, "I mean, I'll keep 'em regardless. These pants are _super_ comfy."

"I know," Stingy said. "They suit you."

Trixie sipped at her hot chocolate and grinned. "Thanks, they definitely look better on me."

Stingy snorted, but whilst he didn’t agree he didn’t deny it either.

Trixie counted that as a win in her book, and when she felt Stingy's hand rest on top of hers, she smiled into her hot chocolate.


End file.
